Contos de Romance sobre Melodramatic e Romances com Poor Student e Face Slapping

At graduation, I invited my classmates to attend my engagement party, but what I didn’t expect was the total meltdown one of my classmates had when she saw my engagement photos. She strutted over, full of herself, and demanded that I take off my dress so she could use it to polish her shoes. I blinked in confusion, thinking she must have lost her mind. I laughed and suggested she head over to the campus clinic to get checked out. Instead, she exploded, pointing a finger right in my face as she started yelling. “You leech! How dare you wear something so expensive?” she screamed. “You’ve been spending all of my boyfriend’s money on your filthy clothes! Have you no shame? Get down on your knees and apologize, or I guarantee you'll regret it. Who knows where you'll end up tomorrow? Maybe in the hands of some trafficker?” I couldn’t help but laugh. Who would’ve thought that my fiancé, whose tuition fees I paid for, had the nerve to keep a secret mistress behind my back?

I was a sucker for pretty faces. The only reason I agreed to date Isabelle was because she was passable-looking as partner material. It had only been a few days since junior year started when my roommate came over to me and awkwardly said, "Damian, I just spotted your girlfriend getting pretty close to that well-known broke pretty boy by the campus lake." I immediately rolled up my sleeves and rushed toward the lake. From a distance, I saw Isabelle standing very close to a slim young man. But the moment I got a good look at his face, I froze. "Damn! This guy was insanely handsome!" He was so good-looking that even I, as another guy, was jealous. Isabelle frowned and stepped in front of me. She said impatiently, "His grandma was rushed to the hospital after a heart attack. I was only trying to comfort him. Don't give him a hard time for no reason, okay?" I pulled her aside, then walked over and gave the handsome guy a firm pat on the shoulder. "Bro, if you're in trouble, you can come to me!"

A new game had become the latest craze among Jexford’s wealthy elite: drawing lots to choose a bride. On the day of Grandpa’s eightieth birthday celebration, the two women I had grown up with decided to settle which of them would get to marry me by drawing lots. However, when the time came, they drew a mute waitress into the game on a whim. After the waitress drew the losing slip, they started egging me on to marry her, all because they wanted to make the underprivileged student I was sponsoring happy. I watched the mute waitress stand surrounded by the crowd. She seemed overwhelmed and unsure of what to do, so I stepped forward to defend her. “Fine. I’ll marry her!”